Overruled

by Lana Ferguson

“Did you come all the way over here just to yell at me, or did you actually miss me?” “Hardly.” “Too bad,” he murmurs. My nose wrinkles. “Why?” “Because I’ve missed you.”

“Fireworks,” I say after a beat. “I’d better go check on them before Dad blows a hand off.” Ezra is still smiling that shit-eating grin, and I shoot him a wary look. “What?” “You and I make sparks fly,” he says, looking proud of himself.

“Dani,” he laughs, actually laughs. “I walked away from that woman whose face I can’t even remember because from the second I saw you, for every fucking moment since—there hasn’t been anyone in my head but you.” He laughs again. “You might as well live there now.”

“It’s just the truth. As exhausting as you are, I can’t seem to stop chasing you. Even if I wish you’d do a bit of the chasing every once in a while.”

“I told you, Dani,” he says carefully. “I haven’t been able to see anyone else but you since the night I laid eyes on you.”

“You’re in my head, and I don’t know how to get you out. I don’t even think I want to.”

“I’m learning that it’s the things you don’t say that I should be paying attention to, Dani. That’s usually where your real feelings are.”

“I’m…nice.” “Sour Patch, you’re as prickly as a cactus.” And when I tense, he leans in, adding, “But I love that about you.”

“I’ve been yours for ages, Dani,” he says, his voice a low, sweet murmur. “I’ve just been waiting for you to catch up.”

“I would expect nothing less, Sour Patch.” I slant my mouth against his, laughing. “That’s going to be Mrs. Sour Patch to you.” “I’ll call you whatever you want, Dani,” he hums against my lips. “As long as I can call you mine.”